


DSM-V

by orchidbreezefc



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 05:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18243587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidbreezefc/pseuds/orchidbreezefc
Summary: For a Tumblr prompt.





	DSM-V

**Author's Note:**

> So, the Tumblr prompt I did this for was 'Is that my shirt?' and the part that actually filled the prompt was the part I didn't like about this fic. So I cut it out and changed a few things, and now I like it much better. Regardless, thank you Twyx for the prompt!

‘Up late’ is a relative concept when your job is the graveyard shift. Still, Ben’s not even working tonight. He decided yet again that he couldn’t do it, and called in to Merv to bail and have Chet cover him before nighttime even started. Sammy is in his comfy pajamas, and by this point he mostly has the layout of Ben’s--their--apartment memorized enough to move in the dark, but he’s not expecting to see the light of some small electronic at three in the morning.

“Ben?” he asks blearily, shuffling into the living room. “What the hell?”

Ben starts in a way that sets off alarm bells in Sammy’s head, like he’s a kid caught skipping Grease rehearsals to smoke, or whatever the fuck Ben did as a kid. “Hey, Sammy,” he says, rapidly closing his laptop and leaving them in darkness, like the idiot he is.

“Hey,” Sammy says, going over and turning on the lamp. “What’s on the laptop?”

“Nothing,” says Ben immediately.

“Ben.”

“Nothing!” Ben shoves the laptop away from Sammy’s reach. “Fuckin’--it’s--uh--Super Smash strategies. Nothing you’d be interested in.”

“Yeah sure, that sounds like shit you’d hide from me and not shove in my face every weekend trying to get me to play. You’re the worst fuckin’ liar.” Sammy crosses his arms. “What is it?”

“Porn?”

“ _Ben_.” After a moment, that’s still not enough, so Sammy sighs and shakes his head. “I thought since the notebook, we were done doing this shit. And don’t you ‘Shotgun’ me about it--Emily’s back, and if you’re not being an asshole and crossing boundaries with me about the contract again--”

“It’s not that,” Ben says instantly, and then gets a look like he’s said too much. Sammy raises an eyebrow and Ben shrinks away from him. “I mean, shit, don’t look at me like that.”

“I can keep this eyebrow up all night, Ben. I’ll wait.” Sammy taps his foot for effect.

“Oh, fuck you,” Ben groans. “If you _must_ know--” He opens the laptop and scoots over so Sammy can sit next to him. He hesitantly turns it so Sammy can see, and Sammy reads the screen twice. Ben has several pages open, most of them headed with things like ‘depression symptoms in adults’.

“Don’t go through the roof, dude,” Ben says warily. Sammy continues to stare at the screen.

Sammy shakes his head. This is so _Ben fucking Arnold_ that he doesn’t know how to react, torn between completely taken off guard and the sense of _of fucking course he would._ Off to research the latest problem in his life. Off to implement a step-by-step plan to fix it. Off to help his friends, whether they want it or not.

But at the same time... nobody’s ever done anything like this for Sammy before.

“Sammy? Don’t leave me hanging. If you’re going to kill me, just make it swift and merciful, please. I really don’t need the time to compose an epitaph _and_ a will. Sammy?”

Sammy sighs and uses Ben’s shoulder to push himself up. “I’m not mad. I’m tired. I’m going to get a glass of water and go back to bed.”

“What? Really?” Ben twists to look behind him as Sammy moves around the couch toward the kitchen.

Sammy looks back, and Ben just blinks at him, eyes bright and confused in the dim light. “Yeah,” he says. “Good night, Ben. Let’s play Super Smash tomorrow, yeah?” He doesn’t look at Ben again before he heads back to his bedroom, but he can tell those eyes follow him the whole way.

**Author's Note:**

> Because Noah is actually REALLY good at Super Smash.


End file.
